


Santa Daddies

by drunkkenobi



Series: Ellie [4]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Kid Fic, M/M, the santa problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28074642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkkenobi/pseuds/drunkkenobi
Summary: “I really think we should just tell her,” Shane argued. “Kids find out anyway, might as well have our girl be ahead of the class.”“Shane, she’s three!” Ryan shot back. “All kids should believe in Santa at three!”Or: Ryan and Shane vs The Santa Problem
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Series: Ellie [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830517
Comments: 21
Kudos: 92
Collections: Skeptic Believer Book Club Advent Calendar





	Santa Daddies

**Author's Note:**

> For my advent calendar entry, I had to add another chapter to my Ellie series. For those who care about continuity, this one takes place between how long do you wanna be loved? is forever enough? and Ryan & Shane & Ellie Visit a Cat Cafe. 
> 
> Thank you to Jess and Katie for looking this over and thank you to Bee for coming up with the advent idea in the first place. Sorry not sorry this is 1600 words over the limit.

Ryan and Shane had their parenting differences, but they always came to an agreement after talking them out. Two peas in a dad-pod.

Except for one particularly jolly point of contention.

“I really think we should just tell her,” Shane argued. “Kids find out anyway, might as well have our girl be ahead of the class.”

“Shane, she’s three!” Ryan shot back. “All kids should believe in Santa at three!”

“The whole thing is weird. A stranger breaks into your house and leaves you gifts? And you have to be ‘nice’ for them? Gross.”

“I’m aware of your anti-Santa, no fun allowed propaganda,” Ryan said with a sigh. “But I’m not destroying the magic of Christmas for Ellie while she’s still in preschool for fuck’s sake.”

“I didn’t believe in Santa and I still liked Christmas as a kid,” Shane shrugged.

As annoyed as Ryan was, he couldn’t help but smile at that. “Always the skeptic, huh?”

“You could say that,” Shane said as he held up some tubes of wrapping paper. “So. Are we getting special ‘Santa’ wrapping paper or not?”

Ryan snagged them both and dumped them in the cart. “Yes.”

* * *

Ryan had agreed to make some concessions to the usual Santa myth. Ellie didn’t have to go see some strange man at the mall and tell him what she wanted, a letter was just fine, no elves on shelves, and there was no naughty or nice list or lumps of coal. That last bit had been Ryan’s suggestion, remembering his own sleepless Christmas Eves worrying about finding a piece of coal instead of a Lakers basketball under the tree. 

Now that Ellie was three (well, “three-and-a-half”, as she often reminded them), the holidays were so much more fun. She loved helping to decorate the tree, even if it meant their tree was very bottom heavy, and she absolutely lost her mind the day they all made sugar cookies. Shane had gone a little crazy at the store, buying ten different kinds of sprinkles and frosting. It took them hours to clean all of the sprinkles off their daughter and the kitchen floor, but it was worth it to see her multicolored, messy, and beautiful cookie creations.

It was shaping up to be a really good holiday. And then Ryan heard Ellie sniffling in her room one week before Christmas.

He peeked through the door crack to find her scribbling in one of her coloring books and clumsily wiping at her eyes. 

“Ellie? Can I come in?”

“Okay.”

Ryan next to her on the floor, his hand instinctively rubbing her back. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

“Nothing.”

“Ellie, we’ve talked about this. It’s okay if you’re upset about something. You can tell me.”

She continued coloring, although her scribbling slowed down. “Am I naughty?”

Ryan was so surprised he let out an exasperated laugh. “What? Honey, no. Why do you ask?”

“Alexis told me I don’t get Christmas presents if I’m naughty,” she said as tears welled up in her eyes again. “She said Santa won’t come!”

Ah. He and Shane had made a critical error in their own Santa mythologizing. They forgot other children existed.

“Oh no, Ellie, no, c’mere,” Ryan said, urging her to crawl into his lap. She did, faceplanting into his shoulder. “You’re not naughty and I know Santa will come this year. He comes for every kid that believes.”

“Promise?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“I promise.”

“And I won’t get coal?”

“Not a chance.”

“Are you sure?”

A pang of fear struck Ryan right in the chest, those words all too familiar to his own ears. He’d tried so hard to hide his anxiety from her, to ensure she didn’t pick it up, but the worry in her little voice suggested otherwise. It broke his heart. 

Ryan hugged her tight, trying to quell his own tears. “I’m sure.”

* * *

“Shane, I think we should tell Ellie the truth about Santa,” Ryan said, jumping up from the couch the minute Shane got home.

“Uh. Dinner with Scott was great and he says hello too, thanks for asking,” Shane said, eyeing Ryan cautiously. “What’s this about?”

“Some kid at preschool told Ellie she wouldn’t get presents if she was naughty and she worked herself into a tizzy about it and I think we should tell her the truth so she doesn’t view Christmas as this big stressful thing,” he explained.

Shane’s face softened. “Oh Ryan. Hey.”

“You didn’t hear her, Shane. She was so worried.” Ryan sniffed, the memory still too fresh in his mind. “I don’t want that for her.”

Familiar arms wrapped themselves around Ryan’s back. “I know. But just so we’re clear, you’re having anxiety about Ellie having anxiety, am I right?”

“Well, when you say it like that it sounds stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s just a very You thing to do,” Shane said before he pressed a kiss into Ryan’s hair. “I also think Ellie being worried about Christmas presents doesn’t mean anything one way or the other about her general anxiety level.”

“But what if it does?” Ryan asked, his nose pressed into Shane’s shoulder.

“Then there’s no one more equipped on this planet to help her with it than you.”

Warmth spread through Ryan’s body like a cozy bonfire. He was so infinitely grateful for his weighted blanket of a husband. “Thanks, big guy.”

“Of course.”

They curled up on the couch, Ryan’s head on Shane’s shoulder.

“So, when should we tell her? Before Christmas or after?”

“I don’t think we should tell her at all,” Shane said, his eyes focused on the latest Netflix holiday movie. 

“What? I thought you’d be chomping at the bit to get your way on this!”

“I changed my mind.”

Ryan sat up, his eyebrows twisted up in confusion. “Since when?”

“Since right now.”

“Shane.”

Shane tucked a knee up close to his chest, his arm wrapped protectively around it. “I don’t want her to be that kid to someone else, to tell them Santa isn’t real.”

“Don’t want her following in your footsteps, either, huh?”

“Not exactly.”

It was such a standard Shane non-answer. Good thing Ryan had spent the better part of a decade decoding such bullshit.

“You weren’t that skeptic little kid telling everyone Santa wasn’t real, were you?”

“Not as much,” he confirmed.

Ryan slipped a hand into Shane’s hair, threading the brown and silver strands between his fingers. 

“Aw, someone ruined Santa for little baby Shane, huh?”

“I believed so much,” Shane said with a small smile. “My mom really went all out. She did Santa paper, even changed her handwriting enough on the tags and the letter to throw us off. She’d ring jingle bells every Christmas Eve night, just so me and Scott would think he was there.” 

Ryan smiled. “We should steal that for Ellie.”

“Hm. Maybe,” Shane said before continuing. “Even when I couldn’t shut my brain off about it, Mom always had an answer. He could visit every kid in the world because of time zones and the fact that lots of kids don’t celebrate Christmas. The mall Santas were his elves. One year, I even asked for Rudolph’s hoofprint to prove he was real and that damn woman got me a hoofprint.”

“Holy shit, how?”

“One of our neighbors was a hunter, had a mounted deer with hooves he let my mother stamp onto her weirdo youngest son’s Santa letter,” Shane said fondly. “She wanted to keep the magic alive for me as long as possible.”

“And some asshole kid ruined it for you, huh?”

“Trent Rice,” Shane said bitterly. “He made so much fun of me for believing and I kept coming back to him with all this ‘proof’ and he shot holes right through it all. And when I finally accepted he was right, it made me realize that the world was as we saw it, nothing magical, nothing that couldn’t be explained.”

“What an origin story,” Ryan said as he rubbed circles against Shane’s scalp. “Cannot believe you waited until now to tell me.”

“We don’t all have cute little bags of toothpaste to spice them up,” Shane teased, giving Ryan a nudge.

Ryan tugged on his hair for that. “So, what are we gonna do about Ellie?”

“I don’t know. Both options have their complications.”

Ryan thought about it for a minute. “How about this: we keep up the Santa charade for now, but the day she asks us if he’s real, we tell her the truth. Even if it’s tomorrow.”

“Hmm,” Shane murmured, pressing his index finger to his chin. “I like it. And we’ll make up something about how she shouldn’t tell other kids too, whenever that comes.”

“Hell yeah.” Ryan laid a big messy kiss on Shane. “Ghoul dads, baby. We’re killin’ it!”

Shane laughed. “I think you mean Santa dads.”

“Ghoul Santa dads. Santa ghoul dads?”

“Let’s workshop it.” 

Ryan sagged back against the couch. “Oh shit.” “What?”

“What are we gonna do when she asks us about ghosts?”

Shane’s eyes widened before he, too, collapsed against the sofa. “I guess we just tell her what we both believe, or don’t believe, and let her figure it out for herself.”

“I’m gonna bust out the Queen Mary video, you know that right?”

“Oh good, then she’ll definitely be a Shaniac then,” Shane replied easily with the world’s worst shit-eating grin. It made Ryan feel like he was 26 again. 

Ryan tackled him, wrestling him down on the couch with ease. Laughing, Shane wrapped his arms around him, holding him in place.

“Someone’s feisty,” Shane grinned.

“Shut up and make out with me before our daughter comes looking for us.”

Shane did not have to be told twice.

* * *

“I don’t see why you have to be dressed as Santa, she’s in bed.”

“Because it’s the spirit of Christmas, dipshit,” Ryan grinned, putting his hands on his stomach. “Ho ho ho!”

Shane scrunched up his nose as he stuffed more candy in Ellie’s stocking. “All that costume makes me think of is drinking weird Steven cocktails.”

“Really? That’s _all_?” Ryan asked with raised eyebrows.

A bright pink flush crept up Shane’s neck. “Okay, maybe not all.”

Ryan pointed a candy cane at him. “Knowing your sad Santa trauma explains a whole lot about those shoots, bee-tee-dubs.”

Shane hooked a finger around the end of the candy cane and let Ryan pull him up. He crowded Ryan’s space, his hands firm around his hips. “Still doesn’t explain _your_ Krampus thing, though.”

Suddenly, it was way too fucking hot in his polyester Santa costume. “That was one time.”

Shane leaned down to press a kiss to Ryan’s ear. “You say that every time.”

Ryan pretended to be indecisive for five whole seconds. “Don’t forget the claws.”

“I won’t, Santa Daddy,” Shane said with a wink before heading towards their bedroom.

Ryan groaned, unsure if he was annoyed or turned on. Probably both. 

While Shane got changed, Ryan went back to setting up Ellie’s Christmas morning. As he munched on a cookie, Ryan arranged her mountain of special Santa presents in front of the tree. They were spoiling her, sure, but it was Ellie. How could they not spoil her?

Ryan was so focused on making the presents look nice, he didn’t hear the pitter-patter of little feet.

“AHHHHHH!” Ellie screamed, startling Ryan so bad he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Ellie!” He whipped around to find her wailing in the hallway, her little cheeks as red as Rudolph’s nose. Ryan’s heart fell into his socks. “Baby girl, it’s okay, c’mere.”

She ran away from him, right into Shane’s legs. He was still regularly dressed, except for his Krampus headpiece, but Ellie didn’t seem to notice. 

“Ellie? What’s wrong?” Shane asked.

“Dad can’t be Santa!” she cried.

Panic rose in Ryan’s throat. No no no, he wasn’t ready for this. Despite what he’d said, it was too soon. He couldn’t ruin the magic for her yet.

“I’m not, I swear,” he told her, voice tight.

“But you’re dressed like him!” Ellie pointed out before pressing her face back into Shane’s chinos.

Wordlessly, Shane scooped her up and sat down with her on the couch. Ryan sat down tentatively with them, sharing a pained look with Shane. Ellie still wouldn’t look at Ryan.

“Dad’s just a big fan, sweet pea,” Shane said calmly as he rubbed her back. “Loves the jolly fella so much he dresses as him.”

“Yeah, like how you dress up as Minnie or a cowboy,” Ryan said, praying that she would buy it. “I love Santa, he’s one of my biggest idols!”

“Really?” she asked, finally turning her head to look at Ryan.

He stroked her wet cheek with the back of his finger. “Really. I was hoping to meet him tonight, but I just missed him.”

Ellie’s eyes immediately snapped to her giant pile of gifts. “He’s already been here?!”

Within the blink of an eye, she’d scrambled out of Shane’s arms and onto the floor, inspecting every box. Ryan finally breathed a sigh of relief. Santa crisis averted, for now.

“Now, Ellie, it’s not Christmas morning yet, you can’t open those,” Ryan reminded her.

“Pleeeeeeeease?” she whined. 

Ryan would’ve let her open them all if it meant she still believed, but he was trying to be better about rules these days. 

“No, Christmas is in a few hours, you can wait.”

Ellie let out a long groan, but begrudgingly crawled back onto the couch to sit in between her dads. “That’s gonna take _forever_.”

“Nah, it’ll be here before you know it, apple tater,” Shane told her. 

“Hmmph,” she grumbled. 

“You know, if you went back to bed—,” Ryan started but Ellie interrupted him.

“Papa, can I touch your horns?”

With all the stress of the last five minutes, Ryan had forgotten that Shane was half dressed as Krampus. The fact that Ellie wasn’t freaked out by it said a lot about her and a lot about Shane.

Shane ducked his head so she could reach. “Sure.”

She patted the rubber horns, her little fingers rubbing the grooves. “They don’t look like reindeer horns, Papa.”

It took Ryan a second to understand what the fuck she was talking about, but thankfully Shane was quicker on the uptake.

“I know! Probably a good thing I missed seeing Rudolph, he’d be so disappointed in my outfit.”

“He would,” Ellie said very seriously. “We’ll get you better ones next year.”

“Good idea.”

Pretty quickly, Ellie fell back asleep, her head in Ryan’s lap and her legs in Shane’s, but neither of them were keen to take her to bed. Shane slouched down enough so he could rest his head on Ryan’s shoulder, his Krampus wig acting as a pillow.

“This is nice. We’re all in here, Obi on his tree, Oscar in his bed. The whole family.”

“It is,” Ryan agreed. Everyone was bathed in a warm glow from the Christmas lights, like straight out of a movie. “I feel like we should be watching It’s A Wonderful Life or something to really complete the picture.”

“Do you want the moon, Ryan?” Shane asked in best Jimmy Stewart impression.

“Nope. I’m good.”

“I don’t think that’s the line.”

“Who gives a shit about the moon when I’ve got all this?” Ryan asked, motioning around them. “I’ve got everything I could ever want already.”

“Aw, you marshmallow,” Shane teased, but his soft eyes betrayed him. Trying not to wake Ellie, Ryan leaned in to kiss him.

“Merry Christmas, big guy.”

“Merry Christmas, Ry.”

“Merry Christmas dads,” Ellie mumbled, her eyes still closed.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be asleep,” Ryan pointed out.

“Wish me a Merry Christmas first,” she argued.

Ryan scooped her up in his arms, holding her close to his chest while Shane stroked the back of his fingers down her cheek. Together, they said, “Merry Christmas, Ellie.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shane's childhood Santa stories are all my own. Shoutout to my mom for being really fucking good at being Santa.


End file.
